Circle You
by 3ONESHOTS
Summary: Always expect the worst, especially if you're walking through a dark forest in the middle of the day and happen to discover an old orphanage.


This is what happens when I feel like writing something creepy. "Kagome Kagome" is a real game, and some of the things that happen in this fic are based off of real history. If you want to learn more, there's more information on the Wikipedia, and there is also a Vocaloid song on it.

Disclaimer: I, most likely, will never own Vocaloid.

. . . .

She's walking through a forest.

Surprisingly, despite the time of day, the forest is dark. Shadowed by myth and legend of an orphanage... A small orphanage, secluded by the shelter of the forest's trees and the sturdy wall that protects it. Many have tried to find the orphanage's whereabouts. Nobody returned, though. Many went missing. Family members were disappearing... One by one... And yet, nobody found the orphanage afterwards. It's her turn now. She has only a few hours before the sun sets, only a few minutes before she makes it to the gate. Only a few seconds until she feels an ominous chill creeping up her spine... But, that's to be expected, isn't it? The girl is walking uphill. The sudden coldness is completely normal. She has nothing to fear, nothing to be scared of. And so she repeats it over and over again in her head...

'There's nothing to be afraid of. Everything is fine.'

Because everything is okay. She probably should have worn an extra layer of clothing, a thicker sweatshirt or a scarf, maybe. She hastily stuffs her ghostly pale hands into her jean pockets and exhales, her shallow breath a cloud of white smoke in the air. Her pockets don't offer much warmth, though, and she's getting more tired and hungrier with each step she takes.

'There's nothing to be afraid of...'

She's finding it harder to believe herself. The forest, the spiritual aura it gives off, unnerves her. She forces her legs to keep moving. To keep her weakened body upright. The cold is almost too much to bear, and if she were a lesser human being, she would have collapsed. But her curiosity, her determination to find this mysterious orphanage, keeps her going, keeps her blood pumping.

And so, much to her relief, she finds herself facing the wiry metal of an old, rickety fence. One that hasn't been oiled or fixed in quite awhile. Despite the seemingly pathetic choice of protection, what lies beyond the fence evades the girl's watchful eye, shrouded in a thick veil of fog. It doesn't take much effort to successfully clear the spindly wall. But that scares her. How frighteningly, frighteningly easy crossing that fence was. How everything... Everything just stops. The birds are gone. Their melodic chirping no longer rings clearly. The wind slows until it is just a light breeze.

Time itself seemed to pause.

And so, she continues to walk through the eerie forest.

Some say, that if you listen closely enough, you can hear the children singing in the orphanage. The tune is simple, merely a few words repeated again and again. And yet the tune, no matter how simple, sends shivers down your spine.

Kagome, kagome.

Circle you, circle you.

Through the fog, she can see the faint outline of an old house. Small, cottage-like. She only catches glimpses of it, though. At first glance, it might not seem like anything special. Just another old house to add to the already extremely long list of old houses. However, they say, your opinion might be changed once you enter the orphanage. Despite it looking small and unkempt on the exterior, inside, it was like a maze without any way out. Turn this way, you run into another dead end. Turn the other, they say, and you find yourself face to face with an old hospital cot. Nobody who entered this maze came out. Or, rather, came out in one piece.

How hard could it be, really?

Miku was foolish, to think she could get out alive.

She approaches the orphanage; the chill is now gone, vanished. Although she is glad the cold is no longer plaguing her, she is also slightly disturbed. The elders' stories about the orphanage still haunt her. 'It would be wise to be wary of the children who live there', they warned. Of course, Miku took this into consideration. They were just innocent children. She would take their warnings lightly.

Miku knocks on the door, noting that the sound the rapping emits sounds hollow. She isn't prepared for the sight that lies before her, though, when the orphanage's doors finally slide open with a loud creak, and a little girl, probably no more than seven years of age, greets her at the doorway. She beams at the newcomer happily, her smile almost dreamy or distant.

"Hello," she says. A common greeting. Miku cannot help but tense, though, as the young girl reaches slowly for her trembling arm. Her gaze is fixated on the little girl's nubby remains of her own arm... Little more than a stub wrapped in withering linen cloth stained with dark blood. Whatever happened to the little girl's arm? She has pale blue eyes, almost translucent as if the girl's mind was elsewhere. Long tresses of pink hair cascade down her back. She seems so happy for a girl without an arm. And so, out of pity and concern, Miku lets the younger girl touch her arm. It is only a light touch, her eyes softening and blurring, as if remembering what it felt to have her missing appendage back.

And she quickly clamps her fists around Miku's arm.

The motion is so fast the pigtailed girl is caught off guard, a sharp yelp escaping her mouth as the other girl pulls her through the narrow doorway. Miku nearly trips over the fabric of her long coat. The girl is now blankly staring, as if analyzing the stranger. Studying her behavior, her visage, her voice. It may seem like a strange thing for a little child to do, but this girl doesn't seem like a normal little child. Her gracious smile returns soon afterwards, though, and she seems like a different person, her personality switching from cold to warm. Two polar opposites, and one girl. Miku refuses to flinch away, though, no matter how much she might want to.

She lets the little girl lead her down the hall.

"W-What's your name?" Miku asks hesitantly. It's a start.

The girl seems distant again, her voice faint when she replies, "Luka..." She's fiddling with a strand of hair, humming a tune to herself. A simple tune. A simple, yet eerie one. Miku dismisses Luka's odd behavior, though. Losing her arm must have been a traumatizing experience, no matter how it happened. Unsurprisingly, she must still be recovering from the loss of it. The blood stains look fairly fresh. She might have been harmed merely a week ago. She seems disabled more mentally than physically, however. Miku only feels sympathetic. Luka probably misses her arm.

"I'm Miku. It's very nice to meet you, Luka."

There's no reply. No sound.

And then, there's singing.

It doesn't sound far away, although it is echoing. Miku can hear the sound of children singing. It's a simple tune. The tune Luka was humming. Perhaps it's a song well known in the orphanage. Luka still seems far away as she twists the knob on yet another door. So many doors in the orphanage. But, it's natural for a house to have numerous doors, isn't it?

Miku braces herself as the door opens with another resounding creak. There are more children, all of them singing and laughing. They are all holding hands in a big circle...

And there is a young girl sitting in the middle, simply watching as the others circle her. One boy and one girl, both identical in looks, have bandages tightly wrapped around their foreheads, blood staining the white cloth. They both are perfectly fine, though, much to Miku's shock. They seem more than fine, in fact. With their bright, smiling faces, she can only guess that they are happy, and enjoying their playtime with the others.

Miku gasps as she feels one hand wrap around her other arm. Despite the orphanage's creepy aura, she can't help but feel slightly amused at the fact that Luka will not let go of her arm.

And the girl asks her, "Do you want to play with us?"

It's an easy question to answer.

So, just this once, Miku says, "Okay."

She's only going to play with them once.

. . . .

Kagome, kagome.

Those were the words they sing as they circle Miku. She learns all of their names quickly. Rin, Len, Meiko, Kaito, Gumi, Luka. They all were missing some part of their body, be it an arm, a leg, or even a jaw. Miku feels uncomfortable, vulnerable, as she sits in the middle of the circle. She isn't being hurt, nor being held captive, but she's too scared to run.

"Just sit in the center of the circle," Rin and Len had told her in unison, their voices like wind chimes, high and airy. "And we'll go 'round and 'round you! It's easy."

"Remember to have fun, Miku!" Gumi had encouraged.

"All you have to do is sit..."

"... And close your eyes."

Miku's eyes are closed. She's waiting, waiting...

And the children stop chanting.

"Okay, Miku," Kaito announces as the children settle down. The orphanage is now quiet. So very quiet. Miku can feel Luka's breath creeping down her neck. The young girl is now awfully calm. She hasn't smiled since she led Miku to the playroom, nor has she spoken in that cheerful, bubbly voice of her's. She's a different person now... Cold. Calculating.

"Guess! Guess which one of us is behind you!" Meiko says.

Miku knows. She's positive, from the way Luka's breath billows against her, coming out in short wisps. Luka's dreaming again. She stops breathing, caught up in some delusional fantasy.

"I-Is it... Is it Luka?" Miku guesses. She sounds innocent.

Nobody says anything for a long time.

"You guessed right," Rin states flatly. She sounds bored, now that the singing has stopped and the game is over. "I think we should play again..."

Miku's heart stops.

She's trying to regain her breath, caught in her constricting throat as she tries not to panic. The children are all waiting. They are waiting for her to answer. Should she play with them again? Or should she leave? Luka's hand is now on her shoulder again, her blue gaze resting calmly on Miku's.

"I-I'm sorry, it's g-getting late... I should get going now-"

Gumi interrupts her curtly. "Okay. Why don't you go to bed now, Miku?" She turns and casts a dubious look at Luka, who isn't far from the older girl. "Luka can take you to your room."

Miku is surprised. She wasn't planning to stay in an abandoned orphanage overnight. Come to think of it, the poor children were all alone without parental supervision. How did they survive, out in the middle of the forest? Miku's startled out of her train of thoughts as she feels a pair of familiar hands clamp around her arm and pull her out of the circle. Luka's staring at her again, her grip as strong as ever, eyes distant and somewhat psychotic. She's not smiling. She's not her usual self.

"I-I have a room...?"

"We always keep at least one room open..." Len says, his voice drifting as he points down the hallway. There is no sound, just the steady breathing of the children and the quiet ticking of the clock as the hour hand strikes eight o'clock. It's getting late. Miku knows her family will be worried if she doesn't return back home safely.

"... In case we have guests!" Rin finishes happily. She's pulling on Miku's arm as well, flashing a grin at Luka before forcefully dragging Miku out of the room's dark depths and into the even darker hallway. "We haven't had guests in such a long time, so we were surprised when you came!"

"The room's this way, Miku!"

Miku's head snaps backwards in surprise as she hears Luka's voice intrude on their conversation. She seems more at ease now. Part of Miku is nervous, as if she's afraid of the little girl's sudden change of personality; she's also relieved, though, that Luka is back to her usual cheery self.

'Nothing to be scared of...'

She still doesn't believe herself.

So Miku lets the two girls lead her down the hall. It's dark, the only source of light being the faintly glowing lantern Rin carries in her hand. The blonde girl seems confident, as if she's been in this orphanage for quite a while and knows every passageway, every room, every corridor... Every inch of the small house. That dreamy smile is still plastered on her face as she walks. Miku studies the bloody bandage around her forehead. It covers Rin's right eye. Miku becomes curious as to what is behind the stained cloth, but after a moment of thoughtful thinking, she decides that she would rather not know. Curiosity always got the better of her.

She feels Luka's hand squeeze her's as they approach the guest room.

Miku holds back a gasp as Luka's breathing speeds up, her chest heaving and her eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open and sweat trickling down her ghastily pale face. She's frightened, Miku can tell, from her body's sudden stiffness.

Rin is unfazed.

Miku doesn't know what to expect as she is led to the guest room. A nice, comfortable bed? Or a few wooden planks acting as one with a thin blanket as the bedsheets? She does know that the room is unnaturally bright, brighter than the other rooms in comparison as well as the hallway. Luka is still panting heavily, still gripping Miku's hand, eyes darting this way and that, alight with alarm.

It's an empty room with a hospital cot.

Not just a hospital cot. As Miku approaches it, she notices a few splatters of blood staining the pure white sheets, untouched for who knows how long. She stares blankly at the cot for a few moments before turning back to the girls. Rin is gone. She's skipping back down the hallway, humming a simple and very familiar tune to herself. Luka, however, is standing quietly by the doorway. No longer does she look psychotic, capable of things a little girl would normally not be capable of... She looks scared. Scared and vulnerable.

"Luka? I-Is everything..." Miku inhales a shaky breath. "Is everything okay?"

Luka doesn't look okay.

"No..."

"What's wrong, then?"

Miku doesn't want to push her. In all honesty, she wants to run away from the creepy old orphanage and back home. But after being so generously offered a "guest room", she can't turn back. Not with Luka here.

"... This is where they took my arm..."

Miku's breath catches in her throat.

This is where they took my arm.

She glances at Luka's remaining stub of her missing appendage, wrapped in bloody linen in dire need of a change and a quick cleanup. She's staring, eyes still alight with fear and remembrance. She's shaking, trembling. She looks vulnerable... So very vulnerable. Miku wants to comfort her. She's too afraid to, though, watching as the young girl breaks down all over again, piece by piece.

She's gone before Miku can reply.

. . . .

They're playing again.

After waking up, Miku decides to walk down the hallway again, attempting to escape from the orphanage. However, Luka's face, her shaking body, still haunt her mind. The girl's pain is vivid, so realistic Miku can almost feel it. While she is walking though, she pauses as she passes by that same door. They're holding hands again, going around and around in a circle. Meiko is in the middle of them, her eyes shut tight and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

"Look! Miku's awake!" Rin squeals, breaking the chant.

All eyes are on her now. Luka's especially. Miku flinches as she notices Luka's coldness. She's a different person again. Gone was the poor little girl who stood trembling in the presence of that blood-stained hospital cot.

"Maybe Miku wants to play with us!" Gumi adds.

They ask her. They ask her the same question. Will you play with us? Will you play with us, after seeing that horrible room and that bloody hospital cot and that dark, cold hallway? After seeing Luka's traumatizing breakdown? Will you still play one last game with us? Miku's head is spinning.

She's confused. She doesn't know if she should say 'yes'.

"Why don't you come and play?" Luka says, her voice soft. Miku feels pity stir inside her heart.

"O-Okay... Just one last game..."

They're just children.

And, after all, it's just a child's game.

. . . .

Miku's in the circle again.

They're spinning around and around her. Miku's eyes are shut tight. That way, she won't be able to say their awful injuries. But it also means that she won't be able to see anything. Not Rin's warm smile, nor Luka's pained expression. She won't be able to see if they harm her or not. She can only feel.

"Okay, Miku! Who's behind you?"

It's not Luka.

She can tell, from the person's breathing. She can feel it, coming out in long billows of breath. The children are waiting. Miku's head starts pounding, her heart starts racing. It pounds fiercely against her chest; her skin feels prickly and cold. This isn't Luka. She has to take a wild guess.

"Is it... I-Is it K-K-Kaito...?"

Silence. Nobody is talking.

Miku hears giggling behind her.

It's not Kaito. It can't be Kaito.

"I'm sorry, Miku," Gumi chirrups happily. She sounds upbeat, yet so sinister and dark. She's hiding something. Miku can't stand it. "I suppose you didn't guess right..."

She opens her eyes. They're all smiling. It disturbs her.

"You do know what happens..." Len begins.

"... To children who don't guess right?" Rin finishes.

Miku doesn't know. She's not sure she wants to know, judging from Luka's wide-eyed stare. The little girl's hand is covering her stub consciously, and she's looking at Miku. After a brief moment, she turns away, face concealed by shadows.

. . . .

First, they got their skulls opened up.

This explained Rin's and Len's strange bandages, now that Miku thought about the concept. They would give her a bandage too, as Len had promised. A bloody, torn, and ragged one, just like Rin's. Rin had been happy about the concept, saying that "they would be twins once Miku got the bandages".

Some got their legs removed.

Meiko's right leg, and Kaito's left leg. They both had difficulty walking, and had to sit down most of the time or hold onto something for additional balance. Meiko had been thrilled at the prospect of not being alone. And, with both legs removed, Miku could be both Meiko's and Kaito's "identical sibling", as Meiko had so happily stated. "You don't need legs to be happy or to have fun!", she had added with a smile.

Some had their arms removed...

Luka. Sweet, innocent little Luka. She had just stared. Stared at Miku with those wide, distant eyes as she studied the older girl's arm. She had reached out to touch it for a moment before smiling and saying, "Now I won't be alone..."

Miku wanted to tell her that she was never alone.

. . . .

Some say, that there is an orphanage in the middle of the woods. Just sitting there, with a flimsy fence being the only thing to protect it from invaders. Or anyone foolish enough to try and find it... They say, nobody who searches for the orphanage ever returns. They would play with a group of children, a group of seemingly innocent and cheerful children. The children would put you in the middle of a circle, chanting, "Kagome, kagome..." Circle you, circle you.

There were two girls without arms, two twins without their foreheads, a boy and a girl missing one of their legs.

And an older girl with pigtails. Missing all of her limbs.

Now, Mayu was walking through the forest, the bitter cold biting at her skin as she approaches an old orphanage. An orphanage shrouded in myth and legend, and a sad, sad history. The young girl knocks on the door, which hasn't been oiled in quite awhile, she can tell, as it slides open with an extremely loud creak. Mayu is surprised, though, when she is greeted by a girl with long, turquoise locks of hair, a smile plastered stubbornly on her face. She looks distant, dreamy.

And she's missing her legs, an arm, and her forehead.

Mayu holds back a horrified gasp. The young girl, maybe around the age of sixteen, is completely wrapped up in ragged white linen cloth stained with blood. She looks so happy, though... And she's humming a strange tune to herself.

"Hello," she says. A common greeting, although it unnerves Mayu for reasons unbeknownst to her. "Do you want to come inside? We're playing a game."

It's a simple answer. 'Yes', or 'no'.

"O-Okay, sure..."


End file.
